


Blinding

by Mynameisnotapastadish



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Past Abuse, Porphyria, Prologue, Sarcasm, Sarcastic Eren Yeager, rare illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mynameisnotapastadish/pseuds/Mynameisnotapastadish
Summary: My name's Eren, if that hadn't been made inanely obvious, and I'm a vampire.. Okay, that's not entirely true, but it's certainly more interesting than the rare affliction that is porphyria. I'm severely photosensitive, which in lamens terms means that I'm allergic to sunlight. And that's basically the same thing, right? I've been breathing for seventeen years now~seventeen years too fucking long in my opinion, but as long as we're breaking the ice, I may as well share the entire iceburg (and we all know what that did to the Titanic, so it's probably best to brace yourself).





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue for an upcoming fanfiction that I will be writing with Frickinteacups where Eren has porphyria, and Levi has AIDS~ this is to introduce his characteristics, his backstory, and to perhaps explain why he behaves as he does sometimes~ This will be a two part prologue, and will end with Eren and Levi's first meeting~  
> That said, please enjoy, and feel free to leave a commet~ ^^

If you were to ask someone to describe their favourite memories, the sun would be a common factor..a warm summer day with their partner, a family holiday, the contrast of cool water against pleasantly tanned skin. It's rather insignificant to most, yet it's certainly consistent. To label the sun as the enemy would be an oxymoron to say the least, but if there's one word that illustrates Eren Jaeger, it's unorthodox. My favourite memories were formed in the dark, and that's where they've remained. A soothing embrace protecting me from the melancholic shadows that spilled out all around, threatening me with their very existence. A laugh that could convince even Hawkins, a man of science, that angels do in fact exist.  
My name's Eren, if that hadn't been made inanely obvious, and I'm a vampire.. Okay, that's not entirely true, but it's certainly more interesting than the rare affliction that is porphyria. I'm severely photosensitive, which in lamens terms means that I'm allergic to sunlight. And that's basically the same thing, right? I've been breathing for seventeen years now~seventeen years too fucking long in my opinion, but as long as we're breaking the ice, I may as well share the entire iceburg (and we all know what that did to the Titanic, so it's probably best to brace yourself).  
It's been said that all darkness can be overcome, if only one remembers to turn on the light; however, the speaker couldn't possibly understand how lost one would become if it was the light that was destroying them. As a child, I suffered from the entirely generic phobia of the night sky, the fear of unknown terrors lurking in shadows, simply waiting to ensnare me in whatever malevolent trap they felt like. Darkness was a concept that spiked fear through my whole being, yet it was an environment that I grew accustomed to. It was where I belonged, both metaphorically and literally. My only salvation was my mother..she couldn't take away the shadows, but she could live in them beside me. With her warm embrace to protect me, I could get through a life with no light, a life of solidarity.  
My father, however, was on the opposite end of the spectrum. Grisha Jaeger is a pretentious member of elitist doctors who values reputation more than family. As long as the freak show aura emanating from me didn't surpass the boundries of our own household, he couldn't give less of a shit about how I was coping, or even how his own wife was. Despite his proffession being based there, he never visited me in hospital when exposure to the sun had sent me into seizures, or burned me too harshly to move. Why would he when there was the risk of tainting his status? Between the bond of blood, and the stability of his career, the former wasn't even in the picture. I suppose I haven't exactly made his aspiration for the picture perfect family as easy as he'd anticipated; if a rare disease that practically caged me indoors wasn't enough, my speedily formed depression and mood swings as a result of it made up for any possible wiggle room.  
In the simplest terms imaginable, my father is a grade A asshole. So let's move on for the time being; as previously established, my mom was the only one who truly understood..the only one who tried to. That was until Mikasa joined the family; my father believed that adopting a child from a 'troubled background' would be indicative to his copious companions that he was truly a 'family man', even if his own son was a dissapointment. When she first moved in, she could barely speak any English despite her ability to understand it perfectly. Therefore, this limited her communication with other children (though she's almost as antisocial as I am regardless). My father was, of course, infuriated that his plan to replace the branch that I'd snapped on our family tree had flopped. Whilst he simply abandoned her as a failed project, I gained a friend, a sister. Together, we managed to jump over the language barrier as if it were a mere hurdle. Since then she's been my rock, and I've been her's. It was an unexpected transformation from the boy who used to think he only needed his mother, but it was unfortunately more essential than any of us had initially realised.  
Mom got sick the next year, when I was thirteen and Mikasa was fourteen~ plus, with our father being more elusive than motherfucking Houdini, we needed each other more than ever. Leukemia is the bastard that gripped her life in it's clammy fucking fingers, and it simply refused to let go. Her maternal curves wasted away until I was afraid her bones would pierce her once sun kissed caramel skin, now pasty with sickness. Thick chocolate locks were lost, tendril by tendril. It was evident the toll that this was having on her, yet I can't recall seeing the light drain from shining amber eyes, I can't recall watching that smile drop. She was strong in the sense that matters the most, and nobody could ever fool me into believing otherwise. Even at that point he never came home, he didn't care enough for his dying wife to spend a fleeting thought on her.  
If it weren't for Mikasa, I would've truented each and every day from the shithole that was school to see her, would'nt have wasted a single second that could be spent visiting her. It wasn't like school was valuable to me in the slightest. For some outlandish reason, an antisocial kid with a rare disease and a talent for finding trouble didn't quite fit into the 'happy school family' ethic. Despite her best efforts, it wasn't always possible to keep me grounded. Of course, being my mom, she'd always chastise me for skipping class; she never ratted me out though. I feel like both of us treasured those moments, grasping at all of the time we could afford. Of course though, even being as unnecessarily wealthy as we are, I went broke eventually. Those precious hours had run out.  
I know that all the scientists try to say that you can't remember a physical sensation, but I swear to the father, the son, and the holy fucking spirit that when I think back to the day she died, I can still taste the metallic tang of danger flooding my mouth. I can once again feel my heart threatening to bust open my ribcage, and my throat closing up as if I was drowning..and in a sense, I was. On the day that my world fully crashed and burned, it was just me and her in the house. Father was away on business (shocking I know, the reporters will have a field day), and Mikasa was out. I'm not sure where..I thought it wrong to ask. I'd awoken early; it was one of the few and far between days where mom was actually home. My naive self couldn't wait to see her, not yet jaded and bitter enough to understand the unforgiving manner of the world. The sight hit me straight away~ the disease was stealing her from me in plain sight, the bedsheets doused in Lucifer's crimson as she hacked and fought for her every inhale. I know in the back of my mind that that was always going to be that way, that nothing I'd done could stop it. It's unfortunate that the rest of my mind can't quite grasp that concept, and constantly whispers, sometimes screams, that if I'd only acted faster then maybe she'd still be here. Still breathing, still living the life that she so desperatly deserved. I gripped her hand in my own in the ambulace, her's gradually growing colder and mine battling to stop it. But after that, she was torn from me.  
The process was an agonisingly slow one, dripping with more suffering than she should have had to experience. I refused to leave the waiting room, and with no guardian there to tell me otherwise, I wasn't budging. Mikasa had no argument against it, remaining by my side through it all. The only other face that I registered during that time was a blonde doctor with a shocking resemblance to Chris Evans, who made a routine of inquiring on whether we'd eaten that day. After the first few times, he apparently clocked on to our scheduled lying, and began to bring us food instead of asking. The food from that cafeteria could frankly win first prize at a science fair, but he was kind. And that's something that I can say for no other doctor but him. It's a shame that I never learned his name, but it's not enough to haunt my nightmares.   
My father was actually there on the day that she passed, though it was the kind doctor that actually broke the news; he dragged me back as I battled to get to her..to see her one last time. Bone rattling screams echoed off the walls, and it took me until my throat was raw to realise that they were ripping through me. He somehow got me out to the parking lot before I physically crumbled, becoming increasingly familiar with dry asphalt. And there was the sun again, securing it's position as my juxdaposed foe.  
That marked the beginning of my addiction to self destruction, rapidly forming a downward slope that arrived at my first suicide attempt only a week later. At thirteen years old, I stared at myself in the mirror, and I said goodbye. Goodbye to the shitfest that was, and continues to be, my sorry excuse for a life. The first time was overdose, on the medication left behind by my mother in fact. It was the best way I could cook up in my twisted little brain to salute her one last time: an ironic and beautiful farewell. Clearly, things did not work out in my favour. So I resorted to my following hits of my own personal drug in small doses. Small enough to give me the pain I craved, that I deserved, without hurting the person dearest to me. My sister isn't the type to express her emotions, and her sitting beside my hospital bed was the first time that I'd ever seen her cry. I vowed to never bring tears to those eyes again..  
School had never been a haven, but after everything that had happened, it certainly morphed into a hell. As I said before, I had never been popular, but a hooker with the bubonic plague would've been more approachable than I was. Mikasa has always been a warrior, using her losses to make her stronger; she channels everything she can into bettering herself. Watching her striding, I was more than embarrassed that I could barely balance on my knees. I wasn't about to allow myself to fix a shackle around her neck though, and I refused to hold her back with me just so she could drag me along.   
Armin was someone that I never apprehended, something that I'd never truly had before. Obviously, being allergic to the fucking sun, I remained indoors at break. I also remained alone, or with Mikasa. Then one day, this meek kid sits next to me, pulls out a book, and starts reading out loud. I'm not sure what the name of it was, but I remember him speaking about the ocean in a soft yet enthusiastic tone. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I simply allowed it to happen. This then repeated the next day, and the next, until it became habitual. I only began to respond to him after a good week or so. I learned that he'd lost his parents when he was younger, and had found comfort in literature. Some other kids had been talking about me and my mom in the courtyard, and he'd hoped it would have the same effect. After that, he became one of the most important people in my life, someone that is still like family to me years later. But even he couldn't take it all away..  
I still yearned for my own destruction. I wanted it so badly that I could concentrate on nothing else but how I could mutilate myself discreetly enough not to be caught by my two closest companions. Blades, pills, lighters, fingernails, anything that could cause the sharp sting of pain was my salvation. Smooth skin soon became as marred as my mind, and it still wasn't enough. The one thing that would bring me peace was the one thing that I vowed to never do again. That's when it hit me: me destroying myself hurt Mikasa and Armin more than anything, but if someone else were to do it for me, then my vow wouldn't be broken. I may be fucked up, but it's written in the fictious fine print that it's technically okay.  
Relationships had never been a concern of mine, but love wasn't what I was searching for. A burly blonde named Reiner had everything I needed, but feelings and attraction were never in the cards. I'm pretty sure that the former was mutual, but the latter was contrasting. His attraction to me was the only thing holding us together. You're probably wondering, 'Eren, where could you possibly be going with this?', but believe me there is some sense in here. You see, Reiner was eighteen, two years older than myself at that point, and was quite fond of the ol' drink. When under the influence of alcohol, he had a tendency to get rather physical, and not in the 'let's get dirty' way, more in the 'kung fu fighting' kind of fashion. I had no problem covering a few bruises if I could keep the pain. He would always beg me to forgive him, plead with me to remain silent; little did he know that I wanted to keep our little secret as much as he did, if not more.  
No secret can last forever though, and after almost a year, ours faltered. I think that inside, Mikasa and Armin both know why I stayed, and why I initiated the relationship to begin with. Though they've never voiced it to me~ perhaps they're not willing to admit to themselves just how insane I truly am.   
He'd never hit my face before, for two reasons; firstly, it would marr the sole thing that made him want me~ with a less than desirable personality, my appearance was all I had to offer. Secondly, the face is a difficult place to cover up, no matter how introverted and antisocial I am. Mikasa sees me every day, and it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together to get abusive relationship. On our last evening as a couple, we were both at a party of one of his college friends. I was almost seventeen, and in my mind that seemed more than mature enough to drink~ if Reiner could get drunk off his ass and use me as a personal punching bag whenever he pleased, then I was absolutely allowed to get tipsy. Anyway, I digress; a few drinks soon became a few more, and more, until boundries became blurred. Some Robin Thicke level shit was about to go down, and I was far too inebriated to do anything about it. My mind was too blurry to fully recall who it was, but someone had definately been hoping to get a piece of this ass. And it wasn't my burly, blonde boyfriend.  
Reiner did find us before anything could happen, but instead of realising the situation: that I was completely shitfaced and didn't have enough of a clue what was going on to even initiate a sexual incounter, he read it as an intentional betrayal. Being as inebriated and furious as he was, he no longer cared about whether or not people saw the marks on me. It was the most relentless beating I'd ever received, and for the first time ever, I wanted it to stop..


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I awoke entirely confused, barely even recalling who I was (I mean, Eren Jaeger, Count Dracula, easy mistake to make under any circumstances). The only thing that I was certain of was that my head was banging, and my throat was drier than the Sahara. An irritatingly bright light invaded my sight, igniting a brighter fire in my already throbbing skull. To be more succinct, I was insanely hungover. Not only that, but I was stuck in a god damn hospital bed. I didn’t even need to hear the heart monitor to know that, the crisply starched sheets and pillow resembling cardboard was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know it's been like two months since I posted part one, but things have been a little hectic recently~ hopefully you enjoy the second part to this prologue, and will want to read the full story when me and Frickinteacups begin to post it~ Please enjoy, and like always feel free to comment if you did~ ^^  
> Also, be sure to check out Mon Melancholia by Frickinteacups, as it's amazing, and is Levi's prologue to this story~

I awoke entirely confused, barely even recalling who I was (I mean, Eren Jaeger, Count Dracula, easy mistake to make under any circumstances). The only thing that I was certain of was that my head was banging, and my throat was drier than the Sahara. An irritatingly bright light invaded my sight, igniting a brighter fire in my already throbbing skull. To be more succinct, I was insanely hungover. Not only that, but I was stuck in a god damn hospital bed. I didn’t even need to hear the heart monitor to know that, the crisply starched sheets and pillow resembling cardboard was more than enough.  
Skimming the room, I realised that I wasn’t alone, “Mikasa..”  
“Armin was here a few hours ago..I told him to go home and sleep, he has a test tomorrow~” she said softly, not raising her gaze to meet mine. All I could see was her onyx hair hanging over her eyes~ I wasn’t sure if she was purposely avoiding looking at me. I was positive that she was supposed to attend the same test as my blonde haired companion, yet it would be pointless to mention it. I doubted that she would even be attending school the following day, her stubborn nature refusing her the right.  
“How long have you been here? You can~”  
“No, I can’t. I can’t, Eren..how could I leave you when you look like that?” She cut me off, her eyes, swirling with thunderstorms, finally flitting up to see me. I didn’t even need to question my appearance to understand that I could’ve competed in a wrestling championship and come out looking better. Reaching up to brush a lock of hair from my face, I noticed a collection of tubes connected to the crook of my elbow, resisting the urge to yank them out and run.  
“I thought things were getting better..it was stupid of me to trust anyone else with you, especially pieces of shit like him. I’m sorry..” She spoke softly; I’d never heard my sister sound so uncertain in herself, and it unsettled me more than anything. The emotion didn’t sit right on such a strong expression, and I’d put it there..  
“Don’t say that..please. This isn’t your fault, it’s mine, I..” the words were a mistake even as they left my mouth, I knew that, and yet I attempted to convey my message as clearly as possible. Truth be told, I could write and perform a five hour opera on why this was nobody’s fault but my own, and she still wouldn’t accept it. In her eyes, this would always be her mistake, her fault for not seeing past my carefully built facade.  
“You dare even say that, Eren, and I swear to God..” she paused, reconsidering her choice of phrase as her eyes flickered over my marred face~ she was walking on eggshells around me, never even considering that this had been what I wanted. Why would she? It was hardly normal for a person to purposely be abused, for a desire for pain to be the sole reason for a relationship. I couldn’t bring myself to break it to her. After all, ignorance is bliss,right? And in that case, I’d prefer for her to be in absolute euphoria than know the truth.  
“That blonde bastard is lucky that I didn’t skin him alive..I would have done, he deserved worse, but he’d already fled like a coward when I got there. Getting you help was more important..” She spat the words out, as if they were a foul, as if they may summon him if she spoke too slowly. As she spoke, I recalled that it had been a party of my boyfriend’s companions..my sister hadn’t been there, and neither had Armin, so..”How..?”  
“A group of guys pulled him off you, but couldn’t stop him from getting away. Apparently one of them knew enough about you to find my name in your phone and call me.”  
“Right..” it was pathetic, but it was all I could manage in response. For the past few months, I’d been relying on him for an outlet, for the pain that I so desperately desired..the pain that I couldn’t inflict upon myself. I thought that I’d had it all worked out, and everything had been pulled out beneath me like a dumb tablecloth trick. Now there was nothing,no way to get what I wanted, what I deserved..  
I turned seventeen shortly after I was let out from the hospital, having heard nothing from my father within the duration of this transition; not that I expected to, or even wanted to. If I’d had things my way, he would never have been told about Reiner in the first place~ it was Mikasa that had insisted that he ought to know. I guess part of her hoped for a decent reaction, something that indicated that he did actually care for us. I’d known him for too long to even hope anymore, the knowledge that Mikasa still held onto her wish bothered me. I was one of his sperm blossoms, he had to deal with me, whether he wanted to or not. (I’m banking on not). He’d chosen to adopt Mikasa, he’d taken her from her former life to take care of her and raise her as part of a family. He had no right to raise her hopes and then steal them all away again, for his own selfish reasons. I was born to be one of his robots, but she wasn’t..she deserved so much more than we could even offer.  
The only form of contact that we received from him was a (surprise surprise) unnecessarily expensive car to commemorate my seventeenth birthday. The shiny hunk of metal replaced the blood in my veins with gasoline, prepared to be set alight at any given moment. The mere sight of it infuriated me more than words could explain, for the sole reason that there was nothing in it. Not physically, I couldn’t give a shit for whatever materialistic crap could fit inside that vehicle. No,mentally..emotionally. I would have put money on the fact that he hadn’t even selected it himself~ we probably had more contact with his assistants than him. This had been nothing to him but an obligation, he couldn’t even bring himself to visit. He couldn’t care less about what had happened to his own son, as long as it didn’t interfere with his job.  
That was the last straw, what pushed me to do it..I wasn’t sure where I was even going, I was just driving..just getting away from it all. However, it chased me, clinging to my back and clasping my throat tighter than the seatbelt around my torso. I could never get away in the thing that was suffocating me. In my mind, if I could destroy this, then I could destroy everything..if I could damage this car beyond repair, then it would make all of the bad things go away.. Hey, I never claimed to be sane, or even make sense for that matter. Even I knew that what I was doing was crazy..but I was crazy..  
The longer I drove, the faster I got. My brain was far too hazed over to consider the speed that I was traveling at,and I know that even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t care.  
I don’t remember much after I crashed into a wall~ I’m not even sure where I was. It was somewhere relatively isolated, as close to asscrack nowhere as one could manage living in the city. Nobody but me was injured, which I’m eternally grateful for. If anyone else had ever been hurt by my insanity, then I wouldn’t even know how to comprehend it, how to even begin to apologize. I’m the only one who deserves to live with this..  
Well, I wouldn’t say that nobody was hurt, in the emotional sense, there were two very bad casualties. Two people that I just couldn’t seem to stop damaging. Mikasa is eighteen, though she mentally surpassed her years long ago. Armin has so many dreams, and he’s fully capable of achieving all of them; but he hesitated before taking any steps forward simply because I was struggling to even stay on my knees. I felt like a hunter, trapping the two best birds in a cage~ they could see the world around them and couldn’t get to it. All because I had a firm grasp on the key to set them free. That key had the capacity to harm them, yet also had the promise of relieving them from the world of my pain.. I rapidly lost sight of why I’d been so adamant on keeping a tight grip on it to begin with.  
At this point, they drew the line. I didn’t blame them really, I would’ve stopped putting up with my shit a long fucking time ago. They didn’t find it possible to keep me safe without a professional input anymore. I could hardly argue, though I had no problem with a personal lack of safety. Despite this, if it in any way put my family’s mind at rest, then I’d agree to it.  
And that, if anyone has managed to get this far, is the story of how I ended up in the passenger seat of my sister’s car outside the local hospital. ‘Group therapy’ was supposed to support me, set me straight on a path to self worth and sanity. Even the idea of it was laughable to me~ though unfortunately not comical enough to remove the utter sense of dread and lingering boredom at the weekly sessions.  
“I could’ve walked, you know..” I said, tracing my finger along the expensive leather upholstery of my seat~ I didn’t even bother suggesting that I could drive myself. I wasn’t in the mood for an hour long lecture. Her soft sigh drew my tired viridian gaze to meet her’s.  
“It’s too sunny outside for that today..” she replied, just about keeping the exasperated tone lacing her words to minimum.  
“You don’t trust me..” I replied, and the words were a statement, not a question. It was something that we both knew, yet never fully acknowledged. It wasn’t something that I held against her; if it were me in her position, I certainly wouldn’t trust me either. She was about to protest, but I finished the sentence before she could, “It’s okay, I get it..it just gets in the way of more important things~”  
My sister is so incredibly protective over me that she often forgets about herself, disregards her own needs in order to do what she believes is best for me. It’s the one thing that I’ve always wanted to prevent, and the one thing that I never could. Her sharp glare in my direction following that sentence was enough to silence me for now, though the subject would inevitably arise again soon enough. We both loved one another so much that it created tension between us, each of us only wanting what’s best for the other.  
“I’ll see you later, ‘Kasa~” my voice was an attempt at lighthearted, though it was strained at best. She gave me a slight hum in response, leaning over to pull up my hood in a motherly fashion. I know, I seem like an asshole. That’s probably because I am an asshole.  
I got inside without sparing a glance back, though that was in order to hide from my juxtaposed foe beaming down above me. Long sleeves and thick hoods were my idea of summer fashion (I should just quit everything and go into fashion, I’m positive that trend would catch on).  
I was so focused on keeping myself covered that I didn’t notice the petite man in front of me until I’d accidentally rammed into him full force. Smooth, Eren, very smooth..  
My hands shot out to steady the dark haired male, already absolutely mortified that I’d just bowled into a total stranger, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there..” I apologized profusely, my natural awkward charm shining through, manifesting in my crimson complexion and urgent tone. Running off, I attempted to block the man from my mind.  
Little did I know just how essential he was, and just how important he’d become to me in the months that followed.


End file.
